


der Herbst

by wubzee



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Mentions of Death, Multi, and simeon ponders it, heavy religious themes obviously, lucifer recounts his fall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29672001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wubzee/pseuds/wubzee
Summary: An angel isn’t meant to fall. What happens then, when they do?
Relationships: Main Character & Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	der Herbst

“Falling, to put it simply, isn’t pretty.

The air is heavier when you travel _through_ it. An angel isn’t meant to fall. What happens then, when they do?

Well, you see, they are stripped bare.

Any resemblance to their former celestial self is taken from them. In their place, white turns black and fire burns. It rages in the form of the howling wind against their ears and swallows their dignity, leaving nothing in its trace.

_Wings of a set are ripped and shed._

_A ring of light, shines no more, not overhead._

_The body, disfigured, laid to bed._

Then come the cries. Of pain, beyond comprehension. Of fear, beyond salvation. Of despair, beyond recognition. What was once a temple made for devotion, is instead shrouded in agony. It bears no resemblance to the punishments given by their peers. It is The Father, himself, damning them for eternity, forbidding them from ever even hoping to regain but a shadow of their former glory.

It is The Father disowning his child, shaming them for their decisions that have led them astray. The decisions that are no longer in line with his beliefs.

Oh.

Before that?

There are tears and frustration. Anger, rising like the tension in their bond with him. They begin to question their divinity. They do not see a favorable outcome. Consequences are weighed, and morality cemented. They realize that the bond they share with their brothers and sister is much stronger. Unbreakable, perhaps.

Unbreakable…they hope.

Chaos follows. The angel witnesses it happening like something out of a dream. A warning filled with malice, with a venom he’d only thought demons were capable of speaking. Moments soaked in desperation before the call to arms. Eyes filled with emotions he’d never thought possible. They are frightened. But they stand together, side by side. With their weapons raised and shields to the ready, there is no going back.

War with your own kind is different.

When they felt the end of their sword meet seraphic flesh, they hesitated. And they paid the price.

You think you know war. You think you’ve seen it all.

Until your brothers and sisters start falling. Like comets, like shooting stars, they plummet. They shriek. There is blood. Everywhere. In your nose, in your mouth, you breathe it. It clings to your skin and to your lungs. It dries on your hands and seeps into your very being.

Your sister screams. Amidst the ruin, you see your brothers too.

And then… _she_ is falling. Weightless and yet ever closer to the ground. You abandon all reason and you fall with her.

Her light fades. The sky is black. You do not breathe. How can you? When she is hanging on for dear life, how can you yourself hope to live? The roaring of the heavens dulls into a hum. The deafening silence blurs your vision as you struggle to find someone. Anyone. Who can help. Who? Who is there if there is no Father? What can you do?

So you beg. You offer what little of you is left. Loyalty, the demon says. You are thankful he doesn’t ask more of you. Loyalty. It flows in your veins. Loyalty. It is powerful – “

With a quivering breath, Simeon closes the tattered cover to Lucifer’s journal. He hadn’t meant to pry. He didn’t think the man was the type to keep such things. To preserve them. Especially not in his study.

No, that wasn’t right. As he runs a finger over a crack in the leather, he flinches. He’d tried to destroy it before. Clearly, he had an attachment. Or maybe he wanted a reminder. A reminder of the days he’d managed to overcome and leave behind.

He knows for certain now. That they can never really see eye-to-eye. He doesn’t hold that knowledge inside of him. He doesn’t have that horror tainting his soul. He doesn’t have the strength to do as they did.

When Simeon read Lucifer’s words, his limbs had felt numb and his stomach had turned cold, as if someone had dropped him in a vat of ice. From that day on, they continued to haunt him. A man of few words as Lucifer was, had shaken him to his core.

.

Eventually, meaning becomes a thing of the past. He begins to loathe the idea of hiding in plain sight. The mask he wears begins to crack and what leaks from within _reeks_ of anathema.

Love for another. And love for the self. Both were cast aside but not anymore. To love truly was to revel in the indoctrination of opposites. To commit was to marvel in the proclivity of damnation. To sacrifice was to bask in the purest forms of the pith of enlightenment.

It was an ascension for him. A choice he’d made over time, sure, yet a choice that was second nature to him. The very moment he’d decided to spin the world on its axis at an angle he could digest, he’d shown resistance.

If he thinks about it, Michael had always known. Deep down, perhaps he’d known it too. That the ways of the realm he called home, were not ways of kindness or ways of a better tomorrow. They were the ways of a flawed and arrogant man scrambling to hold onto tradition and forcing them upon those not within his grasp.

“Loyalty. It is powerful and a display of might in a different sense.

He reminds me of what it means to be loyal to oneself. Repeat this. Say it as many times as it takes for it to sink in.

Do I serve another master?

No. I only serve myself.”

He binds the leather shut and places the weathered journal back in its place.

A contemplative smile graces Simeon’s lips. To think he’d been frightened by these sentiments many centuries ago. How naïve he’d been. To have thought himself weak and impermissible. To have fashioned an entirely foreign identity out of spite. That was now beneath him.

There is clarity in the relief that floods him when he looks at you. In all your simplicity, you are a sight to behold. You shine, incandescent amongst the clouds. Only, they aren’t clouds. You are rooted in the earth, in the barren soil and the leaves, they form around your shape. You are a flower whose sweet scent is carried by the teasing breeze.

And he cannot think of anything more perfect than you.

As he fondles the base of his horns and traces their curvature upwards, he does not consider himself a demon. He is above that. He will no longer confine himself to ideologies. Instead, he will create.

He will create…with you.

**Author's Note:**

> i've come to really like simeon. he has something akin to a god complex but i don't know quite how to describe it...


End file.
